Sir Robert Reading, in a letter to the Royal Society dated October 13, 1688, in speaking of Irish pearls, states that pearls, if once dark, will never clear upon any alteration in the health or age of the mussel. This Mr. Unger stoutly contradicts; he shows by many specimens that some of the finest Scotch pearls are perfectly dark inside. The theory put forth by Sir Everard Home, that the peculiar lustre so much valued in the pearl arises from the centre, is thereby upset. There is no doubt Sir David Brewster is correct in his statement on that point in the Edinburgh Encyclopædia. Some writers assert that irregular pearls may be rounded. This of course is erroneous: they are, as everybody knows, formed in layers like an onion, and these layers being cut across would be exposed in such a manner that even the highest polish would not hide them. It is, however, quite possible in many instances to improve a bad-coloured pearl by removing one or more of the coats; and in this way many a pearl of comparatively trifling value has been turned into a gem of rare beauty. The best way to distinguish a real pearl from an imitation one is to take a sharp knife and gently try to scrape it: if imitation the knife will glide over the surface without making any impression, it being glass, and a real pearl will not be injured by a gentle hand. Pieces of shells are, however, extensively used and sold as pearls. They are cut into shapes closely resembling half pearls, and mounted in various ways, so that many professed judges have been deceived. These are easily to be distinguished by their iridescent lustre from the true pearl, which has but one distinct tint.
[17] I have culled the following account of a fisherman’s wedding-dance from an excellent provincial journal. The solemnisation of a marriage is a great event in the village, and when one occurs it is customary to invite nearly all the adult population to attend. The ceremony is mostly always performed in the church, and it not unfrequently happens that at some of the marriages the whole lower part of the church is well packed with the marriage-train. The Collieston weddings are remarkable for the hilarity which ensues after the company return from the ceremony. After a sumptuous dinner the company adjourn to the links to a place which is smooth and level, and which lies at no very great distance from the Coast-Guard station at the end of the sands of Forvie, and there, to the inspiriting strains of the violin, dance the ancient, picturesque, and intricate “Lang Reel o’ Collieston”—a reel danced by their forefathers and each succeeding generation from time immemorial. To those who are fond of “tripping the light fantastic toe,” and who never had the fortune to see it danced, it would doubtless be interesting were we to give a description of this “The Lang Reel o’ Collieston;” but, although fond of that sort of exercise, we do not boast professional skill, and consequently are unacquainted with the technical names of the various movements in this particular department of the worship of Terpsichore. We may, however, mention that, as indicated by its name, the lang reel o’ Collieston is a lang reel in a double sense. It is of long duration and lengthy in its dimensions, for all the wedding party join in dancing the “lang reel.” It is commenced by the bride and her “best man,” and pair after pair link into its links as the dance proceeds, until all have linked themselves into it, and then pair after pair drop off, as in some country-dances, until none are left dancing but the bride and “best man” who commenced it. As may be supposed, this extended saltatory effort is rather trying for the bride; and we heard one sonsy wife of forty declare, in recapitulating the share she had on her wedding-day, that “the back of
her legs didna cour (recover) the lang reel for a month afterwards.” The dance movement is very curious. The dancers “reel, set, and cross, and cleek,” and change places in such a way as to take them by degrees from the head of the dance to the foot, and back to the head again, and so on, the whole being like the links of a chain when reeling. When the couples are dancing, the lang reel o’ Collieston looks like a series of common Highland reels, and it is in the reeling that the peculiarity and intricacy of indescribableness of the dance exists. This reel is quite indispensable at marriages, and after it has been danced other reels and dances are enjoyed and kept up with very great spirit—natural and imbibed; and to see the lang reel o’ Collieston danced on the greensward under the blue canopy of heaven, on a sweet afternoon in summer, is a treat worth going many miles to enjoy. Not only would the eye enjoy a rare feast, but what with the sweet music of the violin, the merry song of the lark in mid-heaven right overhead, the ringing guffaws of the juvenile spectators, the clapping of hands, and the loud hoochs or whoops of the dancing fishermen, all commingling and commingled with the murmur of billows breaking among the rocks, the ear would have a banquet of no ordinary kind nor of everyday occurrence.—Banffshire Journal.
[18] In the fishing villages on the Firths of Forth and Tay, as well as elsewhere in Scotland, the government is gynecocracy. In the course of the late war, and during the alarm of invasion, a fleet of transports entered the Firth of Forth, under the convoy of some ships of war which would reply to no signals. A general alarm was excited, in consequence of which all the fishers who were enrolled as sea-fencibles got on board the gunboats, which they were to man as occasion should require, and sailed to oppose the supposed enemy. The foreigners proved to be Russians, with whom we were then at peace. The county gentlemen of Mid-Lothian, pleased with the zeal displayed by the sea-fencibles at a critical moment, passed a vote for presenting the community of fishers with a silver punch-bowl, to be used on occasions of festivity. But the fisherwomen, on hearing what was intended, put in their claim to have some separate share in the intended honorary reward. The men, they said, were their husbands; it was they who would have been sufferers if their husbands had been killed, and it was by their permission and injunctions that they embarked on board the gunboats for the public service. They therefore claimed to share the reward in some manner which should distinguish the female patriotism which they had shown on the occasion. The gentlemen of the county willingly admitted the claim; and, without diminishing the value of their compliment to the men, they made the females a present of a valuable brooch, to fasten the plaid of the queen of the fisherwomen for the time.
It may be further remarked, that these Nereids are punctillious among themselves, and observe different ranks according to the commodities they deal in. One experienced dame was heard to characterise a younger damsel as “a puir silly thing, who had no ambition, and would never,” she prophesied, “rise above the mussel-line of business.”—Note to Antiquary.
[19] “The Scottish fishwomen, or “fishwives” of Newhaven and Fisherrow, as they are usually designated, wear a dress of a peculiar and appropriate fashion, consisting of a long blue duffle jacket, with wide sleeves, a blue petticoat usually tucked up so as to form a pocket, and in order to show off their ample under petticoats of bright-coloured woollen stripe, reaching to the calf of the leg. It may be remarked that the upper petticoats are of a striped sort of stuff technically called, we believe, drugget, and are always of different colours. As the women carry their load of fish on their backs in creels, supported by a broad leather belt resting forwards on the forehead, a thick napkin is their usual headdress, although often a muslin cap, or mutch, with a very broad frill, edged with lace, and turned back on the head, is seen peeping from under the napkin. A variety of kerchiefs or small shawls similar to that on the head encircle the neck and bosom, which, with thick worsted stockings, and a pair of stout shoes, complete the costume.”
[20] “There fishermen and fishermen’s daughters marry and are given in marriage to each other with a sacredness only second to the strictness of intermarriage observed among the Jews. On making inquiry we find that occasionally one of these buxom young damsels chooses a husband for herself elsewhere than from among her own community; but we understand that when this occurs the bride loses caste, and has to follow the future fortunes of the bridegroom, whatever these may turn out to be. Speaking of marriages, the present great scarcity both of beef and mutton, and the consequent high price of these articles of food, seems in no way to terrify the denizens of Newhaven, for there the matrimonial knot is being briskly tied. While chatting with some of the fishermen just the other day we heard that two of these celebrations had taken place the night before, and that other four weddings were expected to come off during this week; and we both heard and saw the fag end of the musical and dancing jollification, which was held in a public-house on these two recent occasions, and which was kept up until far on in the next afternoon. We can see little to tempt the young women of Newhaven to enter into the marriage state, for it seems only to increase their bodily labour. This circumstance, however, would appear to be no obstacle in the way, but rather to spur them on; and we recollect of once actually hearing, when a girl rather delicate for a Newhaven young woman was about to be married, another girl, a strapping lass of about eighteen, thus express herself:—“Jenny Flucker takin’ a man! she’s a gude cheek; hoo is she tae keep him? the puir man’ll hae tae sell his fish as weel as catch them.” When upon this subject of intermarriages among the Newhaven people it is proper to mention that we heard contradictory accounts regarding the point; some saying that no such custom existed, or at least that no such rule was enforced by the community, while another account was that only one marriage out of the community had, so far as had come to the knowledge of our informant, taken place during the last eight or nine years.”—North Briton.
[21] Some of this information about Fisherrow is from Chambers’ Journal.
[22] From a private letter by Mr. Donald Bain.